


The Long and Short of it

by Khadgarfield



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Flynn is thick and Mathias is Horny, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28336647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khadgarfield/pseuds/Khadgarfield
Summary: Mathias spends his annual leave attending Flynn on a trip to Booty Bay.Flynn makes it his business to exemplify how the place got its name, through a particularly unorthodox fashion decision.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 19
Kudos: 57





	The Long and Short of it

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing lots of heavy shit lately, so have a lighthearted Fairshaw to break up the monotony.

The worst thing about Stranglethorn was definitely the heat.

Fortunately, Mathias Shaw did not have to put up with it often. He had plenty of other bodies at his disposal, and his official seal on a slip of signed parchment would send one of his agents wherever he willed them. Usually, he would have two or three stationed near Booty Bay constantly, because there the information flowed like ale on tap. He did still need to visit the place professionally on occasion, the most recent visit had in fact been with Flynn in tow, but he could count the times he had visited the place for _personal_ business on one hand.

Or one finger, rather. Since he had done it exactly one time, and that time was now.

If he was going to pick a place for Flynn to take him while he spent his annual leave, it probably would have been anywhere else but here. As they were journeying for convenience, however, with Flynn needing to deliver a shipment of goods from further north to the port, Mathias didn’t have much of a choice. If the visit had been a work engagement, then he probably could have just sent a subordinate in his place, but because he knew this trip would involve plenty of naked congress in the privacy of the _Arva’s_ captain’s cabin, this option was entirely off the table.

They hadn’t even been docked in Booty Bay for half an hour, and Mathias was sweating terribly in his civilian clothing. The humidity was wetting the hair on the nape of his neck, and the mosquitos were buzzing around his flushed ears even as he stood high on the breeziest part of the deck. All around him, men and women of the ship were working – most of them paid him no heed, not because of his natural aptitude to sneak but rather because Flynn had all told them he was to be treated like a first-class passenger. Apparently, that meant not having to lift a finger, even as he watched the crew haul heavy crates of goods out of the hold and onto the pier below.

That was probably a good thing. If someone had asked him to pick up so much as a tinder box in this weather, he would probably keel over from exertion.

“Alright, love?”

The deck of the ship creaked under Flynn’s footfalls. He was a large man, even by Kul Tiran standards, and everything that bore his weight seemed to groan no matter how sturdy and well-built it was. Mathias inclined his head toward him as he approached, but did not pull his eyes away from an exchange one of the crew was having with a goblin bruiser near the unloading ramp.

_What do you mean there’s an import tax on this cargo? The Captain never said anything about that?!_

“I’m alright,” Mathias said, waving Flynn closer so he could point out what he was seeing. “Looks like trouble down there, though.”

Flynn sighed. Mathias could see his shadow as he drew beside him, and coiled thick, slightly sticky arms around Mathias’s waist. Mathias was surprised to note that his skin was bared – usually Flynn wore his coat whatever the weather, but apparently here it was hot enough that he favoured a short sleeved tunic instead. It revealed the pale hair on his forearms, and a series of intricate and coiling tattoos that were vivid in the light of the sun.

“Happens all the time,” He said. “I think it’s a regular scam the bruisers run. A few ships must pay up, or they wouldn’t keep doing it… he will drop the act in a minute.”

Sure enough, the mention of getting the Captain to come and defuse the situation seemed to prompt the goblin to drop his act.

 _Alright,_ Mathias thought he said – The spymaster was a man of many skills, but he was not very well-practiced at lip reading goblins. _Don’t worry about it. We will send you a bill in the post._

“I’m not sure if that’s something I should interfere with on a bureaucratic level,” he mused aloud. This made Flynn laugh against his shoulder.

“You couldn’t if you tried, Mat. Pirates do what they like.”

“And what do pirates like?”

“I can’t speak for all of them, but this one really likes you.”

Mathias couldn’t help but smile as Flynn’s hand wrapped around the side of his jaw, turning his face just enough to plant a short kiss on his lips. When the ends of their noses brushed together, Mathias could feel that Flynn’s face was sweating too, and suddenly he was far too aware of how the man’s body heat was searing against his back. A wave of exhaustion rolled over him, and with a soft whine he pushed Flynn away.

“It’s too hot,” he said, apologetically. “Try me again later tonight.”

“The big brave Spymaster can’t handle a little heat?”

He was teasing, but they both knew Mathias would take a month on a frozen, desolate tundra over an hour in the muggy, tropical vale. It wasn’t even a question.

“Not even a little.”

Mathias finally pulled his eyes away from the bruiser that had tried to swindle one of Flynn’s employees, and turned to fix them on his lover’s face.

Flynn looked like he was just as afflicted by the heat as Mathias was, but was coping better on account of being a generally more cheerful person. His hair was in disarray, threads of auburn escaping the cord he always wore to tie it back, and his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were obviously sunburned. Mathias almost scolded him, for neglecting to apply any of the sun guard salve that Mixilpixil had provided, but his criticism died in his throat when he noticed that Flynn wasn’t wearing any pants.

Wait.

He _was_ wearing pants.

They were just so short that Mathias had barely even noticed them under the hem of his tunic.

“Captain,” Mathias stepped back, both mortified and intrigued by the spectacle. He had never seen anything like these before, except on those night elves who wore clothes purely for the comfort of their human allies. “What are those?”

“Huh?” Flynn looked confused, glancing down at himself as though he didn’t really understand what the question was. “What are what?”

“ _Those._ ”

Mathias wasn’t sure how to better refer to them – he was too thoroughly distracted by the large swathes of naked leg on display, the shape described by taught, well trained muscle, and accentuated by his usual pair of boots laced to his calves. 

“… My boots?”

Flynn sounded genuinely perplexed.

“No!” Mathias told him, “Your legs! I can see your legs!”

“Oh!”

Flynn laughed. He plucked at the bottom of his tunic, to reveal the rest of his shorts, and Mathias felt his face flush completely independently of the heat from the sun. How Flynn had gotten into those, he didn’t know – the man had thick thighs, and hips that challenged the resolve of most tailors. Mathias’s chest felt filled with lunar moths, when he noted that the fine reddish hair on Flynn’s lower belly was on full display, and the bulge between his legs threatened to burst right out of the laces that held together the front. Every soul in the universe could see the maps Mathias followed on his night-time sojourns, and every denizen of Booty Bay did not need to imagine hard, to visualize those parts of him still concealed beneath precarious cotton.

“Yeah, I like these for hotter weather,” Flynn explained. “They keep things fresh, and work better for when I need to do heavy lifting, you know?”

“Where would you even _get_ something like that?!”

Flynn shrugged.

“Some Panda?”

If Mathias ever found out which Panda, he was going to have a few harsh words with them.

“You do realise everyone can see everything in those, right?”

This earned another shrug, and Flynn shifted his weight from one hip to the other. The motion flexed the muscles in his thighs, and Mathias felt his breath hitch.

_How is it possible for someone to be so sexy without even trying?_

“No one cares, love. It’s too hot to care about anything like that. And besides, folks can look all they like that doesn’t mean they get to make a purchase.” He gave a cheeky wink, “you, however, are welcome to buy in bulk. I will even give you a discount, if you’d like it.”

A discount.

Just like Flynn’s light-damned Panda had discounted the bottom half of those pants.

“Flynn, I can’t take you seriously looking like that.” Mathias tore his eyes away from the shorts and looked down to the dock again, unable to handle looking at him anymore. “Promise me you will get changed out of those before we go out to eat this evening.”

“But what if it’s hot?” Flynn complained. “I can see you’re melting in those trousers.”

“Yes, but at least no one here can see my entire ass.”

“You can’t see my ass. And even if you could, what better place for it than _Booty_ Bay?”

Mathias huffed and folded his arms across his chest.

“Hilarious,” He said, tone conveying that as a matter of fact he didn’t find it funny at all. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going on land to try and find something chilled to drink. Find me at the Inn when you’re done here, if you will.”

“Yes boss,” Flynn leaned in and planted a short kiss against his cheek. “But I’m warning you. The shorts are staying on this whole trip.”

Mathias was going to see about that.

…

Mathias had to admit he was a _little_ bit put out, when the dear Captain Fairwind strolled into the Salty Sailor hours later. He was clearly freshly washed and tidied, his hair smelling like the conditioning rinse he used to keep it shiny and soft, but he was still clothed in a shirt and boots and of course, those fucking tiny shorts. There were goblins in the bar whose pants had more cloth by square foot than those things, and that was if Mathias was being VERY generous.

“Are you serious?” He asked, regarding Flynn from over the top of his book about the daggersmiths of ancient Quel’Thalas.

“Of course I’m serious. It’s a gorgeous walk, and once we get there we get a great view of the bay.”

“I’m talking about the shorts.” Mathias closed his book and set it down on the table. “Although, now you mention it, going for a walk in this heat seems like a bad idea.”

“It’s cooled off a little now, and we can get a repellant for the mosquitos.”

Mathias sighed, deciding that if Flynn was going to insist on wearing those, it probably was better that the two of them weren’t just ambling around in public. One wrong move, and his entire rear end may in fact be revealed, and Mathias wasn’t sure what would happen to a man if his backside was witnessed by at least a hundred goblins simultaneously, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was humiliating.

“Fine,” He said, pushing himself up from his seat and draining the last of his glass of cola with a grimace. He didn’t really care for the food and beverages this far south, but he had to admit it was better than the fare in Boralus. “Please yourself, Captain. Feel free to lead the way.”

…

Mathias wasn’t surprised that every goblin they passed on the stroll out of town took a moment out of their evenings to stare at them. Flynn insisted on stopping at a few shops, picking up a bug salve from the alchemists and some fresh fruit and cider from a Westfall produce cart, and he strode around the port as though he really didn’t notice or care that when he moved his legs, the soft curve at the bottom of his ass became visible under the hemline of those pants.

Mathias thought he was going to need to revise his definition of the term ‘pants’.

With provisions acquired, he and Flynn made their way out of the sweaty, busy marketplace, and slipped through the den that acted as a gate to the port. Flynn waved to the bruisers on duty as the pair of them passed by, and for possibly the first time since he had met the man Mathias found he was embarrassed to be seen with him. He watched as the two goblins on duty exchanged incredulous glances, and he could practically _hear_ the way they were going to be whispering once he and Flynn were out of earshot.

_Did ya see that Rumzie? Wasn’t that the captain of the boat from up north?_

_Yeah… I think it was. I dunno who that other one was._

Please let them not have a clue who he was...

Mathias was not a praying man, but he might have dropped to his knees and converted right now if he thought doing so would ensure no one recognized him.

The hike through the jungle towards Flynn’s secret picnic spot was hot, and uphill, but at least the trail was private and the salve they had purchased worked exactly as it promised on the label. Mathias was dripping with sweat before they were even halfway, so hot and weak in his leather trousers and long-sleeved shirt that he thought he was on the verge of passing out. Flynn, however, with sweat beginning to stick his shirt to the middle of his back, was still moving with astonishing vigor. His body was built for strength and endurance, better suited to this task than speed or agility, and the power of his strides left Mathias in the dust. If it wasn’t for the spymaster’s stubbornness, he probably would have just let himself slide back down the slope and lie there, gazing at the sky and melting slowly until Flynn came back down to pick him up.

“Almost there!” Flynn called over his shoulder, ponytail whipping in a thin lick of breeze. For a moment, Mathias felt a flutter of relief, but then the wind stilled again and the oppressive, wet heat returned. He groaned aloud.

“I thought you said it had cooled down,” he complained, and Flynn laughed.

“It _has._ Not by much though. But look, soon we will be able to see the view!”

Mathias didn’t have enough energy to turn his head and look to the sliver of the ocean slowly becoming visible at his altitude. He really, _really_ wasn’t interested, even though in his peripheral he could see the sun beginning to sink behind the horizon, and the glittering flicker of the evening reflecting off the surface of the sea.

Mathias did find the view in front of him compelling, though.

The backs of Flynn’s legs were pale, and sprinkled with fine auburn hairs. His muscles flexed in smooth, even motions as he strode forward and pushed his weight up. His calves tensed and relaxed again, Mathias cast his eyes up over his ass and up the broad, well sculpted terrain of his back. He could see a thin veil of sweat glimmering at the base of his neck, and felt a strange tug in his belly that may have just been heatstroke, but may also have been a desire to lick him there and taste the warm salt of his skin.

Clearly the humidity was making him crazy.

He huffed, and forced himself to climb harder.

They made it to the top after about twenty minutes of struggle. It wasn’t really the top, so much as it was a small flat area nestled against the side of a much larger, much less scalable hill face, but by all accounts Mathias thought it was good enough. A pleasant feature of the spot was that it overlooked the bay far below them, and was around the exact size necessary for two people to share a romantic dinner. Judging by the footprints that flattened the grass in the middle of the area, he and Flynn weren’t the only ones who had thought as much.

Flynn made a sound of satisfaction, and dumped the canvas bag full of picnic supplies down on the ground between them.

“You look fucked Mat!” he commented, as though he wasn’t short of breath as well. “Not in the good way.”

“I’ll fuck you,” Mathias retorted, before he realized that sounded less like a threat, and more like an invitation. Flynn laughed a deep, belly laugh, and bent over to rummage around in his satchel for a blanket.

Admittedly, once Mathias had caught his breath again, and dropped down onto the picnic blanket Flynn spread beneath them, it really actually was a very nice view.

The sun set slowly this time of year, sinking behind the horizon on the other side of the bay. The languid warmth of the evening sat heavy on his shoulders, and he was thankful for the cold water Flynn kept in a flask at the bottom of his bag. The two of them ate in comfortable silence, Mathias realised he was hungrier than he had thought when he demolished a hearty chunk of fresh bread with jam, and chased it down with two large apples. As their food dwindled, and their tummies filled, Flynn began to interject with comments and observations about the bay and the region surrounding it. This included pointing out where the _Arva_ was anchored, near the most bustling pier in the port.

“I’ve seen your boat plenty of times, Flynn.”

“I know I know. She just looks _particularly_ good from this angle, don’t you think?”

“It’s a boat.”

“You’re cold, love. You know that right?”

“I’m currently melting, actually.” Mathias screwed his face up, and moved to undo a few of the buttons on his shirt.

“Take it off then. No-one else is here to see.”

Mathias was confused for a moment, glancing to Flynn with a furrow between his brows, but it became very obvious what he meant when Mathias saw he was staring at his fingers by his button.

“I think I’ll keep my shirt on,” he said, dropping his hand.

“I’ll take mine off if you take yours off?”

“Are you not naked enough as is?!”

He gestured to Flynn’s bared legs stretched out in front of him – they were starting to bronze in the evening sun. Likely, by the time they headed back to Stormwind, Flynn would be properly tanned again, and Mathias was envious because he knew he would look like an overboiled lobster. They were both redheaded, but Flynn’s colouration skewed toward a much richer ochre, and it seemed unfair how effortlessly Flynn took on a wholesome, olive skinned glow. The sunburn on his face notwithstanding.

“Not even a little, love. Here.”

He seized the hem off his shirt, and hauled it up over his head in a single smooth motion. A waft of his scent rolled across the space between them – it was clean, freshly washed, but beginning to tingle with the flavour of his sweat shining on his skin. Mathias’ retort caught in his throat, as his eyes raked over the broad plane of Flynn’s bared chest, and his torso which was solid and muscular and etched with faded scars.

“Much better,” Flynn said, casting his shirt aside. “You don’t need to look at me like that. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“We’re _outside,_ Flynn!”

“So?”

“So?!”

Mathias wasn’t sure why he felt so... disconcerted. It wasn’t as though anyone could see.

“So just _relax_ , love. And stop fretting so much about the shorts. I know you really like them, really.” He gave Mathias a teasing wink. “or at least, you gotta second-hand appreciate that they let a nice breeze on my ba-“

“Flynn!” Mathias jabbed him sharply in the side with his pinky finger, a weak emulation of a killing stab. Flynn dissolved into laughter, and reclined backwards on the blanket beneath them.

“You’re just jealous,” he said, reaching for Mathias and indicating he should lie down, too. “If you want, I can see if my Panda friend can get you a pair?”

Mathias refused to dignify that with a response.

He did lie down next to Flynn, though, settling with his back against the hard ground and looking up at the cloud streaked, golden sky. One of Flynn’s hands came to rest on the side of his jaw, and Mathias felt a shiver of anticipation when he felt his company lean in close and press a soft kiss against the side of his face.

“I’m glad you let me bring you here,” He murmured. “It’s romantic, don’t you think?”

“More romantic than a boat,” Mathias conceded, and he could feel Flynn smiling silently next to his cheek.

They passed a long while like this, exchanging slow kisses and small, intimate words, until the sun was little more than a searing orange glow on the horizon. The White Lady illuminated their spot in silver and shadows, her glow casting a surprisingly bright light, and far below them Booty Bay was a twinkling reflection of stars beginning to emerge in the sky. With the dipping sun, the heat began to dissipate, and soon the temperature went from overbearing to comfortable. Mathias let Flynn pull him close, so they lay chest to chest, and as Flynn’s hands pulled across the backs of his shoulders Mathias let his own hands roam along Flynn’s waist, down to his hips, and then suddenly he found himself touching bare thigh.

“Oh, Sorry.” He inhaled sharply, startled to remember that Flynn, unlike him, was only a few square inches of fabric away from being naked. “I forgot…”

“You don’t need to stop,” Flynn told him. “It’s not like you haven’t felt me up before.”

“No, No, I know. It’s more… well.”

Mathias wasn’t sure how to admit that the act of touching him while he still wore those pants felt much more illicit than admiring his nudity.

“Well?”

It was hard to make out his expression in the shadows, but Mathias knew him well enough to know that he was confused by his hesitation. In his head, he weighed up his options. He could either carry on touching him while they made out in the moonlight (Flynn was right – this _was_ very romantic) and pretend like he wasn’t wearing the stupid shorts, _or_ he could keep his hands to himself and waste a perfectly good opportunity to indulge his more… sensual desires.

Mathias wasn’t often stress-free enough to feel particularly amorous. He _definitely_ wanted to make the most of it, while it lasted.

He told Flynn it was nothing, and pulled their mouths together again, and as his hands shifted back to the sides of Flynn’s legs he had a thought reminiscent of the first thought he had had, when the sight of Flynn dressed like this first registered in his mind.

_Fuck, he’s so hot._

In the very best sense of the term.

Mathias’ hands, with some cajoling, soon began to seek more of that bare skin over the backs of his legs. Flynn’s kisses became deeper the more he tightened his grip, and the more he tightened his grip the more he became aware of how firm Flynn’s muscles were. They were sculpted by lifting, and climbing, and walking planks, and all the other delightful things that came with his job, but above all else Flynn’s legs _powerful_. Mathias thought he could probably snap him in half with them, if he wanted. A soft shiver of desire passed through him.

“Your legs really are sexy,” He admitted quietly, in the space between their lips. “Everyone can see it when you wear these.”

“Aye, perhaps. But only you get to touch. I hadn’t realized you were a leg man...”

Mathias wanted to tell him to shut up, but he refrained because in truth, the low, horny rumble of his voice was making the hair on his arms and nape prickle. He decided to just sink his tongue into Flynn’s mouth instead, and grab at him harder.

Flynn looked big, that was for sure, but under Mathias’ palms he felt even larger than that. Mathias often thought he could lose himself against him, his lithe body disappearing against a terrain of muscle and a layer of soft fat, or that he could drown in the hair on his chest which was soft, and resplendent with his scent. Mathias moaned into Flynn’s mouth, hands dragging over his nipples and the firm ridge at the bottom of his ribs. The contours of his abdomen led him downwards, to the sweet trail that bridged the top of his shorts and his bellybutton. Mathias broke their kiss, and moved his mouth to the side of his jaw. Flynn groaned gently, from deep in his throat, and he squeezed his thighs even tighter around Mathias’ hips.

“You really want to do this here?” he asked. “With all these mosquitos waiting to take a bite out of your ass?”

“Of course,” Mathias told him wryly. “a whole lifetime of tactical training has culminated in me knowing when it’s strategic for me to keep _my_ pants on.”

This made Flynn grin, and Mathias couldn’t help his own lips curling in satisfaction. It was lovely really, how Flynn could make him adventurous like this, and keen to keep the exchange flowing he made quick work of the front of Flynn’s shorts. He pulled the laces open with deft fingers, and slid his hand in to curl around him. Flynn whined softly, head tipping back against the blanket, as his flesh stiffened further in Mathias’ palm.

“You aren’t appreciating how tactical it was for me to take mine off,” he said, “Considering it got you between my legs.”

“You can have me here anytime,” Mathias told him, drawing out his length and pressing a soft and teasing kiss against the side of his cockhead. Flynn made a choked sound that was almost a sigh of pleasure, but he did not reply. Mathias slid his thumb over his foreskin, and nosed the coarse hair that nested around the base of his cock. A pair of heavy, warm hands smoothed over the back of Mathias’ head. Flynn encouraged him with a breathy plea for more, but rather than take him in his mouth or lap at his balls, Mathias nuzzled between his legs, drinking in the heat of these beautiful, concealed places, and shuffled himself even further down. With a gentle but stern push, he spread Flynn’s legs wider, and moved to drag his tongue slowly along the skin inside his thighs. Flynn’s fingers in his hair tightened, sending tingles down his back.

“Tease,” He gasped.

“You’ve been walking around in these all day, I’m just doing what everyone who has seen you all afternoon has wanted to do to you.”

Flynn groaned deeply, as Mathias repeated the action, and fought to prop himself up again into a seated position. His face was flushed, and once again his hair was slipping loose from it’s tie, and he looked so flustered and desperate that Mathias felt his own cock ache to be touched. One of the hands cradling Mathias’s head shifted, to wrap around the base of the erection in front of him, and with a soft nudge of his hips Flynn guided the tip to rub against the side of Mathias’ cheek.

“Please Mattie,” He implored, and Mathias felt his heart flutter in his chest. “The only one I want down here is you.”

Mathias didn’t have a choice, he had to swallow the cock in front of him to hide his smile. Beneath him, Flynn quivered in delight, releasing his grip on himself and seeking one of Mathias’ hands so he could lace their fingers together. Mathias thought the gesture was sweet, even if it left him a little unbalanced in his stance.

As Mathias swallowed him down, dropping his mouth over his length far enough to feel himself gag, he heard Flynn groan loudly in satisfaction. His hips rocked upwards, silently urging him for more, and not wanting to disappoint Mathias gave him everything he had. Soon, they found a patient rhythm, slipping into a silence that was punctuated only by ragged breathing, and the sound of Mathias’s mouth full of cock.

And then Flynn interrupted the tranquility with a moan.

“Gonna cum,” he said breathlessly, pulling Mathias’s head back and letting himself slide against the side of his cheek again.

“That’s the point,” Mathias rumbled, tilting his chin and pushing his hand away to swallow him down once more. With a strangled whine, Flynn’s hips bucked upwards. Mathias could feel his thighs clenching against his shoulders as he met his climax. His cum was hot, and bitter, but familiar - Mathias swallowed what he could with heady relish. When he sat back, he rubbed the rest off his lips with the back of his hand. Beneath him, Flynn was panting softly, looking unbelievably attractive in his stupid little shorts. His cock softened against the plane of his stomach, his broad chest punctuated only by his small seashell pendant. He was gazing at Mathias as though he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

“I should wear these more,” He said breathlessly. “Since you seem to like them so much.”

“If you wear those again, I will remove them from you, regardless of if we are in public or not.”

He did not need to clarify that that was a promise.


End file.
